


Reflection

by macavitykitsune



Category: Saiyuki, Saiyuki Gaiden
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Exhibitionism, Kink Meme, M/M, Narcissism, Not Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macavitykitsune/pseuds/macavitykitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Saiyuki kink meme, with the prompt "Tenpou/Hakkai, boss and secretary". Also the first porny thing I ever wrote!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Saiyuki kink meme, with the prompt "Tenpou/Hakkai, boss and secretary". Also the first porny thing I ever wrote!

They could be mirrors.  
  
For some reason, this is all Hakkai can think as Tenpou presses him back against the wall next to the frosted glass that separates his office from the others' - and by extension, Hakkai's, since they share a working space even though Hakkai has a perfectly good cubicle to himself. Any good secretary should be seen and not heard, and at the moment he is working very hard on the latter - it's hard, so hard, when his hands are pinned over his head on the coathook he really should have suspected ulterior motives for and Tenpou's kneeling between his legs, mischievous eyes fixed on his as he draws back, licks his lips, waiting for Hakkai to beg or threaten. He turns his head automatically from that gaze - it's too much like looking into his own. Tenpou huffs in irritation and slides up Hakkai, slow, smooth silk brushing against his skin in a long hot line, stimulating the thin strip of skin bared by his unbuttoned shirt, and Hakkai bites his lip: pain, to distract from pleasure. Tenpou turns his head to lick at Hakkai's ear, and Hakkai's eyes fly wide open. It's a weakness of his, one his eccentric, scatterbrained, entirely too perceptive employer discovered unfairly early and has exploited ruthlessly since.  
  
He can see them in the broken glass of the door, a multitude of himself and not-himself - long lank black hair and short, spiky brown, the same sharp face, the same green eyes. Mirrors, he thinks again, they could be mirrors. It's a slightly incoherent thought, but it's there, just as he himself is slightly incoherent, but not not-thinking, not yet, no. 

There's no other explanation for how precisely Tenpou applies his knowledge of him, how completely he can unravel Hakkai's composure and calm reserved exterior. Or how Hakkai knew, before he ever touched him, how the smooth skin of his chest felt, the scent of his hair, the taste of his mouth, the sharp jut of collarbone so identical to his own, which Tenpou is mouthing now.

He writhes, tugs at the bonds as Tenpou wraps a hand around him - inkstained, he knows; if there is one thing that dominates their lives more than each other it is their love for books, learning, the warcraft of business. In another age, he thinks, they could have been fighters or tacticians, equally cold rational minds working in tandem to wage war and deal death. Even now, in this, he is still thinking, still analysing, and he knows Tenpou is the same. He wishes he could stop thinking, but he can't, not here, not now, not yet, even as he's thrusting helplessly into Tenpou's hand and muffling his moans against one arm, biting into the flesh until it's red and marked with his teeth to not give him the satisfaction of being the first one to cry out, and oh, that's going to hurt later. At the moment, it just feels good.  
  
"Not the wall," he whispers. "Can't...too close to..." the door, he wants to say, but all that makes it out after that is a high keening sound he doesn't recall being on his list of things to say as the hand around him draws away, leaving him sensitised and waiting. Tenpou makes another annoyed noise against him, but there's a note of triumph in it. He knows he's just given in, that Tenpou's won this round, but at the moment he can't bring himself to care too much. This time, at least, he will follow his lover's lead.  
  
"I know," Tenpou says, and Hakkai notes irritatedly, through returning coherence, that he isn't lowering his voice at all. Then Tenpou reaches up, unties the knot, wraps skin-warmed silk around his neck, pulling him gently towards the other wall, the one that borders the street. "There," he says, as matter of fact as if he's asking Hakkai to place a book on a shelf.  
  
Mirrors, he thinks. Exactly so, moving in unison, anticipating each other. He slams against the wall, tilts his hips at the moment a finger slides inside him; wraps a leg around a narrow waist in time to let Tenpou support it; arches back just before Tenpou swoops down to nip at his throat; and there are lips on his an instant before he wants to pull Tenpou into a kiss, moving up in a hot wet line over throat, jaw, cheek, mouth.  
  
In another world, he thinks, they could have been twins.  
  
One-way glass behind him, it's like falling backwards and being held back by nothing at all. He can see the road below if he chooses to, if he turns his head away from Tenpou  
  
(but he can't)  
  
a hundred feet below, the trailing dots of people's heads in faint lamplight, blurred to his myopic vision. It's dizzying and not something he liked, but it's growing on him, because sometimes - sometimes, times like this, as Tenpou finally finally thrusts into him and he lets his head fall back, gasping - sometimes, he thinks that this, here, with Tenpou is the same feeling. Falling backwards into eternity and death.  
  
Tenpou makes a low harsh sound, thrusts harder. Fucks him just so, until he can't stop making those small helpless sounds anymore, neither of them can, and Tenpou drags him into another kiss. It's late, there should be nobody to hear, but still. And Hakkai pulls away, tilts his head, smiles almost evilly and reaches down to caress himself instead, relishes the fact that Tenpou knows he knows what Tenpou wants and Hakkai isn't giving it. He lifts his hand up and licks his fingers, slow, deliberate, and those green eyes that could be his own flare wide and dark in response. Slides them roughly between Tenpou's lips, watches them part and take them in, and feels a delirious spike of lust at the memory of those lips closing around him a few minutes ago.  
  
In another world, he thinks, they could have been the same person.  
  
The lines between them blur when they're like this, until Hakkai can't tell whose hand is stroking him and who's moaning quietly in rhythm with each thrust. And maybe that's the attraction here - sexual narcissism, the comfort of being known and the thrill of an intellectual equal all blended into one confusing, perfect whole.  
  
"Stop....thinking...." Tenpou growls, and Hakkai almost laughs. Looks him in the eyes, lets him read the answer. _Why don't you?_  
  
He arches back a moment later, the world shattering into white, then black, then stars as he comes, shuddering. Even thought stops dead in that moment, and perhaps this is also what they truly seek in each other - because nothing except Tenpou can make Hakkai stop thinking, and he knows, with the dazed certainty those fading shocks of lust send through him, as Tenpou cries out something that sounds like his name; knows - he's the only one who can do the same to him.  
  
In another world, he thinks, they could have been the same person.  
  
They collapse against each other. Tenpou leans his head against Hakkai's collarbone and fights for breath. They're trembling, sweaty, and Hakkai feels boneless in the most pleasant way imaginable.  
  
In another world, he thinks, lifting a hand slowly to move that annoying fall of hair that always gets in his eyes, damp now and sticky, and the thought stops dead as Tenpou's hand gets there first, brushes his hair out of his eyes. A small smile curves his lips, so like his own, surprisingly tender, and then Tenpou kisses him deeply. Hakkai leans into it, relaxes. Closes his eyes, and the lines blur again.  
  
In another world, they could have been the same person.  
  
....but maybe they're already there.


End file.
